All One Family

Visiting Israel this week, I’ve never felt more a part of Am Yisrael.

Before I left for Israel I asked my six year old son if he wanted me to do anything for him while I was away. He went to the table, took out a pen and paper, wrote something down and gave me a note. He asked me to put it inside the Kotel, the Western Wall. It read, “The boys should be found.”

I went to Israel for a cousin’s wedding and got swept up in the search for the kidnapped teenagers. I went to shul daily where every congregation I visited joined in prayer for the safe return of the captives. I went to a rally in Tel Aviv with tens of thousands of others to call out for the welfare of the captives. We wore t-shirts that said “Jews love Jews” at the request of the mothers of the captives, those heroic mothers, who wanted their sons to serve as a catalyst for unity amongst the Jewish people. I have never felt more a part of Am Yisrael – the Jewish Nation. The Jewish family.

The country was devastated upon hearing the terrible news. They were our boys. I went for a walk in Jerusalem and came to Zion Square where some people had congregated. A singing duo took out their guitars. One fellow was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and the other a long beard, dressed in black and white. Together they sounded beautiful. Exactly what the mothers of the slain teens would have wanted.

They led us in a moving rendition of Israeli singer Yonatan Razel’s famous song “Vehi Sheamda.” The singer put down his microphone and asked the gathered crowd to sing. “And this is what kept our fathers and what keeps us surviving. For, not only one arose and tried to destroy us, rather in every generation they try to destroy us, and Hashem saves us from their hands.” Girls in tank tops, men in peyos, we all sang and cried. Like one family.

I wanted to call my family back home. I wanted to give some sort of explanation to my six year old twins who had been praying for the boys along with the rest of the Jewish people. Before I relayed the news, I told them that I had a true story to tell them.

About 20 years ago, there was a rabbi whose wife was hit by a car as she was crossing the street. She was in grave condition. The entire Jewish community and Jews across North America were praying for her with great fervor. But alas, she succumbed to her injuries and passed away. The rabbi had 11 children and didn’t know how he would marry them all off, but something miraculous happened – each child found his or her prospective partner with ease and each of them found exceptional spouses. At his last child’s wedding the rabbi got up and for the first time spoke publically about his wife’s death. He said that when the entire city prayed for his wife yet she still passed away he didn’t know what to think. But now he saw that God redirected those prayers to helping his children all find such beautiful spouses. “Our prayers never get wasted,” he said. “God just redirects them.”

I told my kids that despite our prayers, the boys were not found alive, but that just like the rabbi whose wife passed away, God would still save our prayers for something else, something very special.

As I was leaving Israel, my cousin pulled me aside and thanked me for coming to the wedding. He said that he appreciated the tremendous effort I made to attend, and how much closer he feels I am to their family. I realized that the same goes for Israel itself.

The Jewish people are one family and whether we live there or not, Israel is our home. The more we visit Israel, are concerned for the well-being of its citizens, make it a focal point in our lives, the more connected we will feel to the Land if Israel and ultimately each other. To paraphrase Ruth, Israel’s tragedies are our tragedies, and Israel’s triumphs are our triumphs.

In this time of collective tragedy, we should do what families do. We should sit down together. We should cry together. And we should comfort each other, whether we’re the girl in the tank top or the guy with the peyos. It doesn’t matter. Because we are all one family.

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Visitor Comments: 4

(4)
Tom,
July 3, 2014 4:14 PM

The girl in the tank top

So nicely written.

(3)
Shoshana - Jerusalem,
July 3, 2014 3:04 PM

The prayers have already helped

Did anyone notice the great miracle taking place within the Israel army? Our soldiers have been and still are in Chevron, a rats nest of terror and H-shem is watching over them and protecting them every minute, bli eyin harah, and may it continue. Today a day camp in Sderot got a direct hit from a bomb fired from Gaza, the building was destroyed but it happened minutes before the children entered the building and even though they were close by, none of them were hurt.

Keep praying. You are keeping us and yourselves alive.No prayer goes to waste.

(2)
Nancy,
July 3, 2014 10:07 AM

Thank you for writing such a sensitive article.

(1)
Shraga,
July 3, 2014 9:31 AM

Beautiful

Straight from the heart. Thank you, Richard.

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I've been striving to get more into spirituality. But it seems that every time I make some progress, I find myself slipping right back to where I started. I'm getting discouraged and feel like a failure. Can you help?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is "two steps forward and one step back." So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you've come!

This is actually God's ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually "down," that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: "The external awakens the internal." This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: "Smile and you will feel happy.")

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a "mitzvah" obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we'd wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

May the Almighty bless you with the clarity to see your progress, and may you do so with joy.

In 1940, a boatload 1,600 Jewish immigrants fleeing Hitler's ovens was denied entry into the port of Haifa; the British deported them to the island of Mauritius. At the time, the British had acceded to Arab demands and restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine. The urgent plight of European Jewry generated an "illegal" immigration movement, but the British were vigilant in denying entry. Some ships, such as the Struma, sunk and their hundreds of passengers killed.

If you seize too much, you are left with nothing. If you take less, you may retain it (Rosh Hashanah 4b).

Sometimes our appetites are insatiable; more accurately, we act as though they were insatiable. The Midrash states that a person may never be satisfied. "If he has one hundred, he wants two hundred. If he gets two hundred, he wants four hundred" (Koheles Rabbah 1:34). How often have we seen people whose insatiable desire for material wealth resulted in their losing everything, much like the gambler whose constant urge to win results in total loss.

People's bodies are finite, and their actual needs are limited. The endless pursuit for more wealth than they can use is nothing more than an elusive belief that they can live forever (Psalms 49:10).

The one part of us which is indeed infinite is our neshamah (soul), which, being of Divine origin, can crave and achieve infinity and eternity, and such craving is characteristic of spiritual growth.

How strange that we tend to give the body much more than it can possibly handle, and the neshamah so much less than it needs!